(Re)discovering
Uncovering Forgotten Paths and Hidden Joys
I've just gotten back home, so please bear with me as I unwind.
I'm still catching my breath from today's travels and the lingering humidity after New York's recent intense thunderstorms and heat waves. The air feels heavy, as humidity tends to linger. Despite that, today unfolded pleasantly as I had hoped as a spontaneous invitation unexpectedly led me to rediscover a "third place" for this summer, and it all began this morning.
Honestly, I had expected today to unfold differently.
Waking up slightly bothered by the lingering scent of chamomile tea prompted an immediate, reluctant sigh. I've grown weary of my nightly habit of leaving cleanup until morning, whether it's the aroma of chamomile tea, nilla wafers, or occasionally toasted pound cake on special occasions. I wish I could explain why I opt for such small snacks, knowing that within an hour, I'll be drifting off to sleep, engrossed in whatever spontaneous movie I choose—but I have no answer and still find myself doing it every time.
Last night, the movie of choice was A24’s "Past Lives"—a touching love story of childhood friends reuniting after decades, navigating destiny, love, and life's pivotal choices. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I fell asleep with about thirty minutes left, so naturally, my only plan for the day was to finish it.
Rolling out of bed with a touch of annoyance at my own delay, my blurry vision softened the blow as my freshly washed and moisturized hair now resembled a bird’s nest, with the occasional curl popping in random directions. In moments like this, I'm a bit embarrassed to admit how much I value a neat appearance, but it's true. I've always had a thing about looking put together, even in instances when I know nobody will see me.
Making a mental note to avoid every mirror that would tempt me into the kitchen, I grumbled to myself, washed my dish, and decided on a whim to bake a mango, sprinkling it with brown sugar instead of cinnamon and pairing it with the remainder of last night’s chamomile tea.
“I often contemplate how many people I've met, or places I've visited, that have become mere fragments of the past simply because life moved forward beyond those moments.”
After eating, I briefly considered giving my hair a more thorough wash, but when a friend from the city invited me to join them for this week’s Grand Bazaar, I immediately agreed.
For those who haven't been, the Grand Bazaar is a cherished Sunday flea market in New York, filled with vendors from every corner. Growing up, it was almost a tradition to visit the market at least once a month with my aunt. We'd explore everything from jewelry and art to clothes and food—she was always on the lookout for unique jewelry sets and one-of-a-kind art pieces, while my younger self couldn't resist the allure of grilled foods and exotic spices that tasted good but were a little too adventurous for my palate back then; often leaving me with tear-filled eyes and a handful of ice cream.
Ironically, it had been over a decade since my last visit, and truthfully, I had almost forgotten that part of Manhattan even existed—like it had faded from memory when we stopped attending.
It's fascinating how memories can slip away like that, gradually fading until they almost cease to exist. I often contemplate how many people I've met, or places I've visited, that have become mere fragments of the past simply because life moved forward beyond those moments. Had I started journaling much earlier in life, I wonder what connections I could have preserved—how those forgotten memories might have unfolded on the pages, reconnecting me with experiences and emotions long buried.
I spoke about it once, in an entry I’ve mentioned more than twice this year titled, Spiced Honey & Chamomile saying,
“It's an interesting paradox of existence because the closer something is to us, the easier it is to overlook. In our daily routines, we navigate familiar streets, passing the same buildings, parks, and faces with scarcely a second thought. The corner café, where we've shared countless conversations over our favorite meals, becomes just another part of our lives. The park where we learned to ride a bike or shared a first kiss with a special someone fades into the background.”
“These forgotten memories hold a certain mystery, as if they exist in a hidden realm of personal history…”
Contemplating all the memories that have resurfaced through conversations with people who shared those experiences with me, I realize how seldom I think about the memories that have quietly slipped away, untouched and unspoken, because no one else felt the need to remember them.
It's a curious thought—how some moments become vivid and alive again in shared stories, while others fade into obscurity without anyone to validate their existence. These forgotten memories hold a certain mystery, as if they exist in a hidden realm of personal history that only journaling might have preserved, giving them a voice and a place to be remembered.
Anyways…
With my recent fascination with vintage watches and hand jewelry, and the event’s theme of vintage fashion, it was perfect timing. Agreeing to meet at noon at their favorite bookstore, I showed up in an all-denim outfit, my hair in a blown-out ponytail, adorned with gold earrings and a finger cuff. Quickly browsing the bookstore, the scent of aged books and dried ink felt almost rejuvenating—as if that was exactly what I needed to start my day.
Spending about an hour browsing, we caught up on life and shared everyday musings. We exchanged childhood stories about visiting the Grand Bazaar, reminiscing about those youthful adventures. Afterwards, we grabbed a quick bite at a nearby cafe—I forget its name, but the food was really good. I opted for Belgian waffles topped with crème fraîche, a dusting of powdered sugar, and fresh mint, paired with a chilled chai latte. They ordered roasted potatoes, sautéed kale, bacon, caramelized onions, avocado, and egg, along with some orange juice.
“In those few hours, I unearthed pieces that sparked memories of past hobbies and interests, reminding me of facets of my identity that had taken a backseat in the rush of daily life.”
As old pop songs played in the background, both of our voices cracked with laughter as we belted out the tunes, catching the gazes of little children and their parents alike. It was a moment filled with warmth and nostalgia, a snapshot of carefree joy that lingered as we walked into the bazaar, greeted by the inviting scent of exotic oils and the embrace of warm textiles.
By 2pm, the bazaar wasn't packed, but there was enough activity that "excuse me" and "sorry about that" punctuated every few words. We wandered through the maze of stalls and displays, intrigued by each corner we explored, lingering for about two hours before heading back to our respective lives around 5:30.
Although I didn't find exactly what I had in mind, I discovered more than I expected—purchasing new natural skincare products, body oils, and a few handcrafted jewelry pieces that resonated with my newfound sense of self. It felt like I was realigning with a part of myself that I had temporarily forgotten—a spirit that thrived in that atmosphere.
In those few hours, I unearthed pieces that sparked memories of past hobbies and interests, reminding me of facets of my identity that had taken a backseat in the rush of daily life and while I don’t have anything deep or insightful this week—honestly, I contemplated not even writing, I think it’s important to say that there are parts of ourselves that we forget or suppress over time, simply because life demands change and adaptation.
Whether it’s experiences, interests, or even the smallest of passions—we often let go of these as we grow older, believing they no longer fit into the narrative of who we are becoming.
Imagine what or who you would’ve been if you hadn't walked away from those parts of your life. Consider how embracing these aspects could enrich your present and future. Life undoubtedly presents challenges and distractions, but there are moments where we can reclaim those lost parts, reconnecting with our true passions and potentials.
Since our last conversation, we’ve entered a new month—the heart of the summer, a time associated with growth, abundance, and inner illumination. If you do anything, take this opportunity to explore new possibilities, nurture our passions, and embrace the joy of rediscovery.
Best,
S.
